


Set It Right For Me

by candypinksocks



Category: Franklin & Bash
Genre: First Time, Fuck Or Die, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 17:46:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candypinksocks/pseuds/candypinksocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'What do you mean a curse? Like a <i>curse</i> curse?"</p><p>"A curse. As in we're going to die in forty-eight hours because we got Mr Robertson's stuff back and in the meantime there'll be pain and suffering and then excruciating death."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Set It Right For Me

**Author's Note:**

> For Vic, not just your average beta...

"Find for the Plaintiff. Mr Robertson's effects to be returned to Ms Robertson, forthwith." Judge Emerson's gavel hits wood with a loud crack and Jared ends up with an armful of very grateful great-great-granddaughter. 

"Thank you!" She pulls Jared into a tight hug and he wonders if it would be terribly inappropriate to sniff her hair. Peter's withering look tells him it really is.

She turns to hug Peter just as tight and Jared'll be a son of a bitch if Peter doesn't just go ahead and be terribly inappropriate anyway. Fucker.

Dr Weirick, creepy museum curator guy and the reason they're all here in the first place, turns to his equally creepy lawyer and whispers something in his ear Jared can't, or maybe doesn't want to hear. Smiles a smile that's all teeth and chapped lips, pushes himself back and up and turns away from the bench and the decision he obviously wasn't expecting.

He doesn't leave. Instead he mutters something under his breath, looks over his shoulder right at Peter and fucking _winks_ before pushing his way through the gate and out of the court room.

"What the -?"

"I have no idea, dude. But we won and Jennifer gets her great-great-Grandfather's shi-, erm stuff back so it's all good, right?"

Peter looks less convinced but he nods anyway, scratches at the back of his neck before he shakes his head and claps Jared on the back. "All good, right."

They arrange for Jennifer to collect Robertson's effects the next day, get Carmen to hire a U-Haul and Pindy to draw up the paperwork, then swing by the Diner for cherry coke floats that always give Jared brain freeze and Tony's special hot wings to go.

*

Jared wakes up at six to the sound of groaning coming from the bathroom. 

He smirks and rolls over, but not before he draws a one in the air with his finger. Peter should know better by now that to try that 'Man vs Food' shit with Tony's hot wings.

He hears the toilet flush and the shower start up and curls up in his comforter and tries to forget about needing to pee. He's not brave enough to hit the head after Peter's gotten on the wrong side of Tony's hot wings and Pindar will have his ass for using his bathroom.

He totally forgets about the need to pee when there's a loud thud and a sharp cry and more groaning.

"Peter? I'm coming in!" He knocks once and opens the door and finds Peter in the tub wrapped up in the ripped down shower curtain, blood pouring from the cut just above his eyebrow. "Dude, what the fuck happened?"

He grabs a towel, shuts off the water and sits down on the closed toilet lid to lean over the bath, presses the towel to the cut and rests his free hand on the back of Peter's neck.

"Don't know - felt like crap, passed out I guess." 

Jared peels back the towel and blood wells up again, runs down the side of Peter's face in a steady stream.

"You're gonna need stitches." He presses the towel a little harder, reaches down to grab Peter's hand. "Here, hold this, I'll get your things, drive you to the emergency room."

Two hours, four stitches and a shot of anti-biotics later, they're back at the cave. Jared steers Peter to the couch and hands him the remotes to everything and a couple of Advil.

"Sit, watch porn, I'll be back later with food."

*

Carmen wakes Peter up at lunchtime with chicken noodle soup and crackers, he's got the TV remote stuck to his face and his legs tangled in the Afghan that Colleen crocheted the summer between junior and senior high. And he feels like shit. 

"You're not Jared."

"Stanton called, something about the Robertson estate and a screw up with the paperwork. He had to go in to clear it up. He'll be home later."

Peter does his best impression of a wounded dog, even though Carmen always calls bullshit every time he's tried it before. So he eats his soup and crackers, watches daytime soaps and sleeps most of the rest of the day away.

By the time it's about time Jared got home, Peter's caught up on all the shows he's DVRed and never gotten 'round to watching, Carmen's made him toast and chocolate milk - twice - and he's beaten Pindy at Madden (just). And he's really fucking _bored_.

"You're late and I'm bored and Carmen's chocolate milk isn't as nice as yours." He sounds like a whiney five year old, he knows it, and by the look on Jared's face, Jared knows it too, but it doesn't stop him.

"And I bought Thai food and the beer you like even though you shouldn't be drinking beer, so give me a fucking break and move over." Jared kicks at Peter's legs, nudges them a little bit more after he sits down.

It's the first time all day Peter's felt even close to okay.

*

Jared's not so much woken up by Peter in the bathroom that night, as shocked awake, bolt upright by what he can only describe as a scream. Peter's not awake when Jared takes him back to his room, pats his arm and puts him back to bed, just like the hundreds of other times since they graduated high school.

Jared doesn't sleep for shit the rest of the night. He's trying not to think about the 'paperwork' he saw today, or the implications and how what's going on with Peter might actually be real.

*

Peter shuffles out the next morning looking, as if it were possible, worse than he did the day before. Black rings circling his eyes and his hair all up in messy spikes.

"I think I'd have a problem telling you from shit in a line up right now, dude." Peter just throws him a look and shuffles a bit closer to the coffee pot.

"Please tell me we have bagels."

"Sorry man. There's coffee?" Even as Peter's pouring himself a cup. He'd tell Peter to go back to bed, take another day, but he feels crappy about keeping this thing to himself any longer. "Peter, I need to tell you something."

"You're leaving me for Mrs Peterson and her antique wigs and Mr Peterson has taken out a contract on you and you need to hide in my closet?"

"Fuck you, Mrs Peterson's a total babe even without the blue rinse and you know Mr Peterson just doesn't appreciate her. No, it's - Stanton called yesterday."

"What?"

"There's a _'thing'_."

"Jared if you don't spit it out, we're going to have matching scars."

"Creepy curator guy - Weirick, from the museum - dropped off a letter and a box for us. I opened it 'cause there was no way I was waiting 'til I got home and there was a - it was a - erm - curse?" He says 'curse' like a whisper in the vain hope that Peter won't hear it.

It doesn't work.

'What do you mean a curse? Like a _curse_ curse?"

"A curse. As in we're going to die in forty-eight hours because we got Mr Robertson's stuff back and in the meantime there'll be pain and suffering and then excruciating death. It's bullshit of course. Stanton called the cops and Weirick's at County right now seeing just how far he can reach for the soap. But it means we can't leave the house for a couple of days. At least until they've cleared up any accomplices and we're not under any threat of getting spikes through our eyeballs or something."

Peter's gone that shade of white he goes when he sees dead people and not in the Haley Joel way either. 

"Woah - hold on there, buddy, it's not _real_ , it's just some crazy old guy." Jared's up and got his hand on Peter's back before he's even finished. "Don't pass out on me, it's okay."

Peter wobbles, catches a breath and shuts his eyes and Jared curls his fist in the back of Peter's shirt. "Just breathe, okay?" Peter takes a shaky breath and Jared scratches his nails through Peter's shirt and gets all up close, rests his head on Peter's shoulder and breathes slow and deep, closes his eyes and holds on, waits for Peter to catch on and follow. Just like every other time.

"We're gonna be okay. Right?"

"Peter, it's bullshit. You _know_ it's bullshit. We'll just take a couple of days then go back to the office and there'll be no more creepy guy."

"Okay."

"Okay. Who wants beer? I know I want beer."

*

Peter wakes up at three fifty seven am, stubs his toe on the door jam, bangs his head on the bathroom cabinet door and drops the toilet seat on his left thigh. He tries to convince himself it's not the curse. He pretty much fails spectacularly at that.

*

It's raining when Jared wakes up the next morning and his comforter's mostly on the floor. He's got a bad taste in his mouth and what's left of a not very pleasant dream pressing on his chest and he ignores the sliver of light coming from Peter's side of the bathroom for a little longer than he would any other time. It's just that he doesn't want to think about what it might mean.

*

Peter's head feels like it's stuffed with cotton wool and he aches in weird places. His foot's sore and he's got another bump on his head from the bathroom cabinet. Today's not shaping up to be much better than yesterday and it's not even seven yet.

They get a call from Stanton at nine to say Weirick got bail and they're getting a Rent-a-Cop detail. When Peter looks out the window there's two bored-looking guys in a tan Lincoln Continental eating breakfast burritos. It's something.

Peter burns the eggs and the coffee machine breaks. He stubs his toe again and Jared beats him at darts and pool. Twice. It's not the best day, but he's got on-tap White Russians and Thai food and Jared. 

*

"So, there's a curse and they've given you forty-eight hours."

"That's not even funny, dude."

"You can have all the money you could ever want, do whatever you want in those forty-eight hours, but come the end of it you're gone. So what, or who do you do and you can't say Marissa Tomei?"

"That's even more not funny." Peter throws a chopstick at Jared's head and misses _again_. Jared's seriously beginning to wonder if this fucking curse thing isn't real after all."

"You really suck, you know that?" As Jared throws the chopstick back at Peter's head and hits him square between the eyes. "I, on the other hand, rock!" He makes crowd cheering noises, his hands in the air and tries to ignore the worried line that's appeared on Peter's forehead. Of course, he can't do that for long.

"Come on man, you can have Marissa Tomei, was just yanking your chain."

"It's not that, it's - what if?" Peter's chewing on his lip and looking like he can't say what he wants to say, which is stupid 'cause they can say just about anything to each other. He blows out a breath, scrapes his fingers back through his hair and leans forward. "What if it's real?" He's whispering now and Jared has to lean closer just so he can hear.

"If what's real?" And dammit if Jared's not whispering too.

"The curse. I mean, look at today, and yesterday. Ever since creepy museum guy got his toys taken away. My aim's never that bad man, and I never get that sick, if you don't count Tijuana and the strange tequila. I'm the one that found the precedent and did the summation and so I'm the one the curse is gonna kill and then you're gonna be left on your own with Pindy's strange sausages and I don't want to die, Jared." It's kind of amazing how out of breath, how panicked Peter sounds even though his voice is barely loud enough to carry.

"Hey, it's bullshit, you _know_ it's bullshit. Curses aren't real and Weirick's just a curator and nothing's gonna happen to you. Or me."

Peter doesn't look convinced and Jared really wishes he'd just made up some shit about why they couldn't leave the house for a couple of days. It's not like them and house arrest is anything new.

"I'm calling Stanton, get this sorted once and for all and then we can get back to being our awesome selves. Okay?"

Peter nods, but looks anything but convinced.

*

The phone's not working, their cells either and it's then that Pindar comes out of his room.

"Which one of you broke the internet?" He looks uncomfortable and a little flushed and Peter really doesn't want to know why.

Except the part of him that really, really does.

"Do I want to know?" 

"Sex." And there's no separating Jared and Peter then, Peter sometimes wonders why people even bother trying.

"Pindy!"

"Not 'me' sex. 'You' sex."

Jared has the courtesy to look as confused as Peter feels. They both look at Pindar, who looks like maybe he thinks that they think he's got his head on backwards.

"Stanton asked me look into the Weirick curse, to see if it _was_ a curse and if there was anything we - you - could do if such a curse should exist." Pindar's got his shirt twisted in his hands and he's looking at the floor. This is probably not a good sign.

"Apparently there was an incident involving the artifacts and the original excavation and several people being found inexplicably dead forty-eight hours to the second after the excavation took place. Again, forty-eight years later when the pieces were moved, and forty-eight years after that, when they were removed from Mr Robertson and placed at the museum."

"And let me guess, it was another forty-eight years before we got Ms Robertson her great-great-Grandfather's stuff back?"

"And in each subsequent forty-eight years, the 'curse' was eventually broken by some form of sexual activity."

"But there's no curse and no one's died, Pindy." Jared's sounding less like he's finding this funny every second.

"Yet." 

Jared looks at Peter and Peter looks at Pindar and they both laugh, except it's not very funny and Jared's kind of frowning.

"So who do we have to have sex with?" Peter can't believe he's actually buying into this bullshit, but there's got to be an explanation for all the hinky shit that's been going on. Pindar looks at Jared and shrugs and Peter's got a feeling he's not going to want to hear who. "Please tell me it's not Weirick. It's not Weirick, right?"

"It looks like the 'curse' gets invoked when the artifacts get moved, by whoever they get moved from. In this case, Weirick. That person can 'curse' anyone, as long as they had a hand in said removal. It could be one or, in your case, both of you. In all the previous cases it was a group of people and the sex was more of a coincidence."

"Coincidental group sex. Really?" Jared doesn't look even a little bit convinced.

"I'm just going by the evidence, Jared. I've got it all printed out if you need to see." 

Peter pokes at Jared's arm and throws him a look. The _'shut the fuck up and let him finish look'_ that mostly doesn't work, but it's worth a shot anyway.

"As I was saying, in each case the deaths stopped after one or more of the group had sex. With each other." Pindar's almost whispering that last part and Peter has to strain forward to hear.

The beer Jared's drinking gets sprayed in an impressive arc across the room and straight into Pindar's face. He's going to be scrubbing at that for hours.

"Wait, what? Say that again and Jared don't drink anything." Peter's standing up now and close enough that he can see the beer dripping off the end of Pindar's nose. 

"In order to break the curse and not die, the evidence suggests that you and Jared need to have sex with each other before the forty-eight hours is up. Of course, this is contingent on you believing that there _is_ a 'curse', that you have _been_ 'cursed' and the 'curse' _will_ cause your death." 

There's a strange crackling, a loud bang and the lights over the pool table all blow at once, spraying the baize and the floor around the table with glass.

"Please stop saying 'curse'." Jared sounds like he's going to throw up any second now. And Peter needs to sit down and Pindar needs to leave.

*

Jared takes a long, too-hot shower and absolutely does not think about having sex with Peter.

He gets dressed again after and listens at his door for Peter to finish trying to rationalize curse and the sex and the dying while he's clearing up the broken glass. No matter which way either of them comes at this, it looks like a stupid coincidence mostly, but then there's that little ball of dread that's getting bigger every minute that makes Jared think that maybe there's something in it. All the shit that's been going wrong with Peter and the house is too much to be just a stupid coincidence, isn't it? The kid that was convinced the closet monster was going to eat him every night would tell him 'yes'. The man that spent years in school partly to be a better man than his father would tell him 'no'.

So far, the kid's winning the argument.

Peter's up on the pool table changing out the lights when Jared finally heads back out and he takes a minute to look, to try and imagine what sex with his best friend would be like. It can't be that hard, right? It'd be just like everything else, right? Easy and good and not even a little awkward. It's not like they haven't seen each other naked, not like they haven't known each other for longer than they haven't, or that they don't have each other's backs in everything. It's just sex.

Or it'll be a complete clusterfuck and they'll never talk about it, or worse, to each other ever again. Could ruin everything and then they might as well be dead for how unthinkable that is.

"I think we should have sex." 

Peter bangs his head on the light and drops the screwdriver on his foot. "Oh."

"Oh? Gotta say, man, that's not what a guy wants to hear."

Peter jumps down off the table and rubs at his head. "You're not the most romantic guy in the world, you know that, right? I like a little more than _'I think we should have sex'_. You suck."

"Hey now, I didn't say anything about sucking."

And Jared knows it's gonna be alright, that they'll do this and go back to being Peter and Jared, they'll just have a story to out-story Stanton with. 

*

Peter thinks it's only fair that he take a shower. And brush his teeth. And check his nose for stray hairs. Okay, that last one's going a little too far and he pulls a face at himself in the mirror, laughs nervously at himself as he heads back out to his bedroom and Jared.

Jared. Who is going to have sex with him to cancel out a curse that may or may not just be in their heads. Jared, who threw the ball over the fence and ran, leaving Peter with no other choice but to follow and he's been doing the same thing ever since. Jared, who would, without doubt, jump in front of a bullet to save his life.

Jared.

He's nervous and can't seem to work out what to do with his hands, so he just lets them hang at his side. He doesn't know where to look either and that's so incredibly lame, seeing as looking at Jared's been his default for the longest time. He feels awkward and stupid and not good enough even though he knows Jared'll tell him otherwise and throw something hard at his head. 

"Peter." Jared's kneeling up on Peter's bed, his hands resting on his thighs and a smile on his face. Son of a bitch looks like he's fucking made to be there and that's something Peter's not even going to think about right now 'cause it scares the shit out of him. "It's just sex."

Right, it's just sex.

"I don't - do you even know - I mean, how are we gonna do this?" Peter's at the end of his bed now and Jared scooting up closer and it's nothing for both of them to reach for the other.

"I guess we just go with it?" Jared shrugs, lets go of Peter to reach for the bottom of his t-shirt.

"Wait." Jared stops looks up at Peter and Peter would do anything never to see that look on Jared's face ever again, like he did something wrong. "No, not - I mean - I want to do it." Jared's eyebrow shoots right up and he's smiling again and Peter just shakes his head and shoves Jared back.

Jared lands with a bounce and an _'oomph'_. "Motherfucker!"

Peter stops thinking about it and just gets on the bed with Jared, like they've done a million times before, except now it's not movies and popcorn, but it's Jared and that's never gonna be wrong.

He curls his fingers in the bottom of Jared's t-shirt and looks up to find Jared smiling back. He nods, Jared nods back and sits up enough for Peter to pull his shirt over his head. 

They stay there like that long enough for Peter to start feeling awkward again, neither of them seeming to have a single clue about what to do next.

"For fuck sake." Jared pushes at Peter's shoulder and follows him down, smashes his lips against Peter's in a not very good first kiss. Too hard and dry and not at all what he expected, not that he's ever thought about what kissing Jared was like, well not since that time with the porn and the pot when they were fifteen. 

"That was truly awful."

"Someone had to do it."

"I vote for me next time."

"It's next time now, Peter."

Peter rolls and Jared goes with it, gets his hands on Peter's hips and pulls him up close 'til they're chest to chest. This time there's no smashing, just a soft press of lips and Peter's hands in Jared's hair. Jared makes a noise and shifts, his fingers pressing into Peter's hips and Peter kisses him again, not so soft this time, his lips parted and his breath catching.

"Better." And Jared's a little breathless too.

The next one's even better, the one after that's pretty awesome and the one after that too, until Jared's making the best noises and Peter's chasing every one with another kiss and wondering why the fuck they haven't done this before.

"We're idiots." Jared's pushing at Peter and for a second he thinks that's it, he's fucked it up and they're done, but Jared's just trying to get his jeans undone.

Peter bats Jared's hand away, gets the button and the fly undone and only just stops himself shoving his hand inside. Instead he pushes himself up to crawl in between Jared's thighs, takes a minute to catch a breath and take a look.

"We're really doing this huh?" He's got his fingers through Jared's belt loops and his knees pressed to the insides of Jared's thighs and he's kinda surprised about how ready he is to be really doing it.

"We really are." Jared rocks his hips up and Peter takes his cue, makes short work of Jared's jeans and underwear, even shorter work of the towel wrapped 'round his own waist.

There's a tiny part of his brain that's stuck on how surreal this is, pretty much unbelievable. And then Jared fucking arches his back and digs his fingers in Peter's hips and makes that noise again and Peter forgets about curses and creepy museum guys and kisses Jared 'til he can't breathe.

*

Jared thinks he might actually explode. 

Seriously. 

Peter's kissing him like it's everything, like he might die if he doesn't, his whole body right there for Jared to take and it's making him a little dizzy, maybe a little freaked out too. He's holding on, nails in Peter's skin, legs tight around Peter's hips and kissing him right back. He doesn't care about some curse, or that they started off doing this because they had to. All there is right now is Peter and this. 

And then Peter's moving and Jared's holding on tighter only to get rolled on top. He's between Peter's thighs and his dick is riding the dip by Peter's hip, Peter's got his hands on Jared's ass and they've caught some kind of ragged rhythm. There's no fucking way he's not gonna lose it any second, he could pull back and make it last, but he wants, oh God he wants -

"Wait - just -" 

It almost kills him pulling back, bites on Peter's lip maybe a little too hard just to hear him hiss and curse, to get him digging his fingers into Jared's ass. "I want - " He doesn't know how to say it without sounding desperate and that's the kicker 'cause it really doesn't matter if he sounds desperate, it's Peter and Peter could give a shit about any of that. So he's just gonna go ahead and say it and fuck it if Peter even looks at him funny.

"We need to fuck and I really want to fuck you and if you keep on with the - " he waves his hand and can't keep his eyes off the parts of Peter that no one in their right mind would ever want to keep their eyes off, "I'm gonna lose it before we get to, you know, lose it, so you need to quit being so fucking _you_ and point me at the lube."

*

There's a second there where Peter can't remember whether there's lube, or condoms or anything that might make the whole sex thing happen and there's more than a second of panic. He's sure it shows on his face if the way Jared's looking at him is anything to go by and then he's rolling off to the side and digging through his nightstand drawer and feeling more than a little smug when he comes back with a whole strip of condoms and a handful of little packets of lube. 

"What?" off of Jared's look. "We have to do it both ways to make sure. Right?"

And Jared just smiles at him, as Jared does; trust and love and everything, and Peter wonders again why they never did this before. Maybe they're both a little stupid.

The lube's cold and Jared's hands are shaking and it fucking hurts when he presses a finger inside, but then Jared kisses him and whispers some bullshit against his lips and kisses him some more and then it doesn't hurt so much anymore.

Jared's taking his time, taking too much time and Peter's getting impatient. He knows Jared wants to make it good, but it's already really fucking good in a weird, uncomfortable, too-full kinda way.

"You need to stop fucking around." He's pulling on Jared's hair too hard, sure he's leaving bruises on Jared's back too, and Jared just keeps on fucking around. Peter's going to go fucking nuts. Scratch that, he _is_ going fucking nuts.

"Jared." And there must be something in his voice 'cause Jared's looking up then and nodding and fucking kissing his way, this way and that all the way down Peter's body and Peter can't keep still. He's pushing at Jared's shoulders and trying to pull at him at the same time, doesn't know what he wants apart from everything and all of it right now. His heels slip over already ruined sheets, knees falling wide and he's not thinking about how desperate he sounds, how fucking needy, just that there's stubble scratching his skin and Jared's tongue dipping into his navel and he's barely holding it together.

And then Jared’s fingers find that spot and there's no holding back the noise he makes, no way he can keep still even though Jared's got his hand on Peter's hip, 'cause Jared's got his mouth too close and his breath's hot over Peter's skin and he's never - he doesn't even - 

" _Holyfuckingshit_!" He's pretty sure he's gonna bite through his own damn lip any second now, more sure that he's never come this hard in his entire life and that's saying something.

Jared drags his finger through the mess on Peter's belly as he slips his fingers free and he'd come again if he could, just from that. Later, after, he and Jared are gonna have a talk about Jared holding out on him. Right now though, he just wants to get fucked.

"I hate you." Peter's limp and brainless, useless too, but he gets a hand back in Jared's hair and yanks him up to kiss him.

"I'm the worst friend ever, right?" Jared pinches Peter's side and Peter cuffs the back of Jared's head and then Jared's up between Peter's thighs, his hands either side of Peter's chest, his arms shaking. 

"I wanna do this. A lot." Peter's not even a little bit surprised by how much he means that. Jared smiles and kisses Peter. Kisses him again before he pushes himself back, lets his hands trail down Peter's sides as he settles between Peter's thighs.

"So let's do this." 

Jared Franklin is a fucking genius. 

*

Jared's hands are still shaking, he drops the condom, can't seem to get the damn lube packet open either and it's going to be a fucking disaster before they've even gotten started.

And then Peter's hand closes over his and his thumb presses down on his wrist and Jared takes a breath, just lets it happen how it's gonna happen.

He watches as Peter takes care of the condom and the lube, his hands sure and careful and when it's time for Jared to move, Peter draws him closer, hands on Jared's hips and knees falling wide. And all Jared can do is nod and move, teeth hard in his lip as he presses inside and he doesn't even have words, just stares wide-eyed at Peter, who's staring right back, neither of them blinking.

It's too much, Jared knows it is, Peter's fingers grip too tight and there'll be bruises come morning, but he shakes his head when Jared stalls, pulls him in deeper and there's nothing for it but to lose himself in Peter.

"You gotta move, man." 

"Don't think I can." His legs are cramping from holding still too long, but that's not the half of it, he knows if he so much as twitches, he's gonna lose it and that'd suck for Peter.

Peter slaps his ass and bites his lip and fucking arches his back and Jared can't do anything _but_ move. Too hard and too fast and he'd feel bad about it if it didn't feel so fucking good. 

"Oh _fuck_!" And then he really does feel bad about it and not just ‘cause it's over too soon and he's a selfish prick sometimes. Peter's squashed under him and fucking laughing and holding him right where he is and that would be fucking awesome if he hadn't just come his brains out.

"Asshole."

"That's a record, right?" Peter's got his feet up on the small of Jared's back now, heels digging in his ass.

"It'll be better next time." Because of course there's gonna be a next time, if only to restore his reputation.

"It better be, now get off me." Peter lets his legs fall and pushes at Jared's shoulders. "You're fucking heavy."

Jared's slow and careful now, hands soft on Peter's thighs when he winces, wriggles back and off the end of the bed to head to the bathroom and he doesn't turn round, just walks backwards. He knows he's got a stupid grin on his face, but he doesn't care.

*

Jared comes back from the bathroom with a washcloth he throws straight at Peter's head. It's cold and lands with a wet slap on his chest before he can grab it.

"I'm never having sex with you again." Except that he's been thinking about fucking Jared the whole time Jared was in the bathroom.

"You're a shitty liar, Peter." Jared climbs up on the bed and up on Peter and kisses him stupid before grabbing the cloth to swipe it down over Peter's belly and dump it on the floor. "I'm irresistible."

"In the land of the deluded, maybe." But he kisses Jared anyway, wraps his arms 'round Jared's shoulders to roll them over, Jared on his back and Peter between his legs. "Have you ever - ?"

"Kinda?" Jared blushes and Peter really wants to know just what 'kinda', but now's not the time and he doesn't want to waste another second.

"You wanna?"

And Jared looks at him like he might have actually lost most of his brain, which really isn't that far off the truth. "Don't be an idiot."

That's a 'yes' then.

Peter tries to at least think about taking his time, really he does, but it seems that sex and Jared means that he sucks at anything like control. One day (tomorrow) they're going to do this like their lives don't depend on it, because they want to, because they like it and go from there. Although Peter's got no doubt at all that 'want' and 'like' are way up there above 'have to' already.

So he just kisses Jared, pulls Jared on top of him again when Jared kisses him back. Gets himself a handful of hair and another of Jared's ass, wraps his legs around Jared's hips and gets them so there's not even a breath between them. The bed's already a mess, the comforter on the floor, the pillows all bunched up near the headboard and Peter wants it ruined, wants the both of them ruined with it and then he wants to go do the same to Jared's bed. 

He might be just a tiny bit addicted.

There's a mess of lube and Jared's got hold of his wrist with one hand, the nails of the other digging into Peter's thigh as he rocks down onto Peter's palm, his head thrown back and his eyes jammed closed and he's making the best fucking noises Peter's ever heard as he finally presses inside. Jared's heavy on Peter's legs and the angle's all wrong, but it's fucking awesome just the same and Peter reaches up to chase the sweat on Jared's chest with his fingertips, twists his other wrist and goes that little bit deeper and Jared's eyes fly open, his nails popping through Peter's skin as he grinds down and there's no more waiting. 

Jared falls forward, smashes his mouth against Peter's as he shoves a condom at the side of Peter's face, bites his lip too hard and grunts against Peter's lips. "Now, Peter."

Peter doesn't need telling twice.

Later Peter will remember every detail. Right now, it's everything just to remember to breathe. Too tight, too hot, too fucking much. Jared's moving over him like he might die if he doesn't and Peter's just holding on, hips rocking up as Jared moves down, catching a messy rhythm and losing it again just as fast, but it doesn't seem to matter. Jared falls onto him again, gets his hands in Peter's hair and pulls too hard, kisses him over and over, calls him a _motherfuckingsonofabitch_ before he freezes, kisses him again and just fucking lets go. Peter would give everything to have Jared do that again and always and it's seconds before he can't hold back anymore and he doesn't care that he's loud or that he's leaving bruises in Jared's skin, he's fucking _done_.

*

Jared's got cramp. And back ache. And his ass is sore. But he's smiling despite all of that and even though his nose is jammed in Peter's armpit, it's official; sex with your best friend is really fucking awesome.

He might've said that last bit aloud.

"I may never move again."

"Might make the Partner's meeting a little awkward." Jared shifts and immediately decides that wasn't the smartest thing he could've done.

"Point. And quit wriggling."

"You are not comfortable to sleep on." But he doesn't move, just stretches his legs back and lets Peter take all of his weight. Serve the fucker right.

Jared tries dozing, but Peter really is the worst mattress, so he sucks in a breath and rolls off to one side. Yeah, that wasn't the best way to do that.

"Warn a guy! _Jesus_!"

Jared doesn't bother with the bathroom this time, the cloth's still kinda damp and his aim's good enough to get the tied off condom in the trash can by the door, so he ain't moving.

"You think it worked?"

Jared's not gonna lie and say he'd even thought about that. 

And Pindar has awesome timing. Or he was outside the door waiting for them to be done, 'cause he knocks just then and walks in. And straight back out again.

"The internet's back!" from behind the door. "And I may have, possibly, made a small error in my research. Which is, in and of itself, remarkable, but I have some information you'll need pants for."

"Pindy!" Jared grabs the sheet off the floor. "Get your ass in here. Are we gonna die or not?"

"It seems I miscalculated. If you had indeed been cursed then it, and you, would have expired yesterday at six am." Pindar pokes his head around the door and looks embarrassed. Jared wants to maybe kick his ass. "The sex may not have been necessary."

Peter looks at Pindar and then at Jared and grins, pulls the sheet over his head and Jared's and bites at Jared's shoulder. "Thanks Pindy. Don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out."

/end


End file.
